Defying Destiny
by MysticCritic
Summary: In a world where Kaitou Kid's damnable luck finally runs out, he's now a prisoner for the Black Organisation. With no hope of rescue, KID succumbs to becoming the organisation's newest guinea pig for their experiments, when the Number Two member of the syndicate – Rum – takes an interest in him. Perhaps, freedom is not such a far gone concept, after all. Omega-verse.
1. Prologue

AN:- Greetings, old friends! Mystic had been unfortunately hospitalized - Cancer is curable though, please believe it and stay positive! - and she is now finally back! Still recovering, but in the mood to write and I'm stuck spell-checking and uploading for her :)

She will continue the rest of her stories, but for now, due to her current mood-settings, we shall begin with this one...

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Warning: Ratings may change. Slash, M/M pairing. Non-explicit content for now.

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Do read and review!

* * *

Prologue

* * *

Rum knew that this was necessary.

For creation, destruction was a must. For a new empire to rise, the old one must fall. To triumph, one must first experience loss. For a new beginning, end must precede it.

That was the way of life.

It had been fifteen years since he'd been a part of the organisation. Most members were older than him; in fact, he was the youngest there was. Yet, in the short span of a decade and half, he'd risen to the highest position in the ranks – the right hand of the Boss himself.

Rum could confidently say that he was the Boss's most trusted agent – Vermouth coming a close second; but then it had been Vermouth who had brought him into this organisation after all. He had no need to fear her jealousy when she thought of him as a son. Gin hadn't been quite pleased at his rise in authority, but had accepted the Boss's orders nonetheless.

To most of the members, he was known as an Avenging Angel – quite contradictory, for an Angel to reside in Hell, but fitting. Because he had never killed yet. Rum was, first and foremost, a strategist. A brilliant strategist that far outclassed Gin or Bourbon. And while he may have been the one to orchestrate quite a few deaths, he had never been the one who pulled the trigger.

Hence, Avenging Angel – a pure being that killed, destroyed, annihilated _righteously_ , yet mercilessly.

* * *

The organisation's goals were simple – to create a better world.

It had been the Boss's wish to eradicate corruption, working from the shadows to eliminate all those who harmed society, pulling out evil from its roots.

It had been a worthy aim; a good cause that many joined for. But then, somewhere along the way, Boss realised that one life time was too little, too less to complete their mission. Because to truly accomplish what they had been striving for, they would need years, no, decades.

And after creating the perfect place? They would need to maintain it! To make sure dishonesty and immorality didn't squeeze their way back into society. Decades were not going to be enough either – he needed _eternity_ now.

An eternity he couldn't have.

And thus began Project Silver Bullet.

* * *

If they were the wolves, then amnesty against their one fatal flaw was required. The Silver Bullet – death – would be conquered by them and they would reign, immortal.

'Mad Scientist' and 'Hell's Angel'; husband and wife, both scientists of great calibre; had been one of the many chosen for creating a drug that would increase one's life-span indefinitely, but they were the only ones who turned out to be successful.

Things had not gone quite smoothly at first and the Boss had turned towards myths – Pandora – in hopes that the fabled gem might provide an answer. Failure had greeted him there too.

Then, APTX-4869, the first successful Silver Bullet, had been created.

The first few versions worked as an untraceable poison. All lab rats had been killed and the organisation began to use it as an assassination method for high risk missions.

Creating a pill for immortality seemed hopeless.

* * *

It had been Hell's Angel who first requested a human test subject. She wanted to create a pill and engineer it specifically for _one_ particular DNA. The Boss had volunteered Vermouth – she was his favourite and if there was one person he wanted along with him in his immortal life, it would be her.

But it appeared that the pill had not worked.

The Boss would have left it at that if both, Hell's Angel and Mad Scientist, had not blown up their lab – committing suicide and destroying all their research and papers in the process.

Five years later, Vermouth had yet to show signs of aging.

* * *

The Boss had immediately brought in Sherry to work for them as soon as she graduated her accelerated course in America. The girl was, if possible, even more of a science prodigy than her parents. If it would be anyone, it would be her, who recreated it – the Silver Bullet.

The revival of the APTX-4869 worked as its first version had – a poison.

But the Boss forbade any use of it for killing purposes, devoting all time and research to advance the pill to its next level – agelessness.

* * *

Rum had been quite appreciative of the organisation's goals.

There was no doubt about that, since he had been the one to concoct many of their plans and carry it out, even if it was only in the role of an advisor and administrator. But, even he couldn't deny how single-minded the Boss had become recently – his only focus being the perfection of the APTX-4869.

Rum was possibly the only other person who was aware of Vermouth's true predicament, the Boss being the first. So, he knew that it was not merely a dream that the Boss was chasing after; it was reality.

But the Boss had become so absorbed in his pursuit of immortality, that their original goal – to create a better world – had been mostly side-lined.

Which was why, Rum had decided.

He had decided that the organisation no longer had a purpose; for they had begun killing to achieve an end that helped none.

And _that_ went against their objective.

And, thus, like any other corrupt individual or organisation, it must be eliminated.

Each and every one of them; the Boss, Vermouth, Gin, Sherry, _himself_ ; everyone must perish. They had reigned supreme, together; and they will fall, broken, together. That was their destiny.

Because, destruction was needed for creation. There can be no beginning without an end. There can be no freedom without struggle.

The organisation was turning corrupt; it was promoting stagnancy instead of progress – what else would you call freezing yourself into an un-aging shell of a body?

Stagnancy.

So, he slowly began working against the Boss, creating a plan to bring them down – from within. The plan would take years to come to fruition, but the seeds had been planted and the roots had taken hold; all that was needed to be done now, was to wait.

Wait and watch.

* * *

Rum did not consider his actions to be a betrayal; no, he was only doing what the organisation had once stood for. To him, it was everyone else that had betrayed the organisation.

And _he_ was their Avenging Angel – carrying out justice.

Hell's Angel had realised this, realised how far they had fallen; she'd kick started the process by killing herself and her research. And now, it was left to him to end it.

For, among the Demons of Hell, it was the Angels who needed to see the truth and bring about true justice.

* * *

AN:- Well, we have so far plenty of suspects for RUM in the manga - Asaka, Superintendent Hyoue Kuroda, Teacher Wakasa Rumi, Chef/Waiter Waketa Kanekori...well, no idea who it is there, but in this particular fic, I'm sure most of you have figured out the identity already! Worry not about the ruthlessness of the BO Characters - they will be done justice [or so Mystic tells me].

Hope you all enjoyed it so far! We hope to keep updates regular, but Mystic's health will be my priority and spell-check and revision may thus take a while.

Thank you all for your support and well wishes!

-Critic


	2. Captured

AN:- Mystic is recovering. Thanks to all those who wished her well! she appreciates them all! But, between real life and writing, updates are slow coming... Here we go with the next chapter, though!

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Warning: Ratings may change. Slash, M/M pairing. Non-explicit content for now.

.

Do read and review!

* * *

Chapter 1: Captured

* * *

It had begun as a perfectly normal day. Kaito would have called it a good day, in fact, if it hadn't been for its horrible end.

KID had sent out a notice as usual; no riddles this time, only a target and time; and ran circles around the Task Force as he swiped away the jewel and made his escape. Easy – as usual. After all, he was the Kaitou Kid and no one could get the better of him. Be it the Task Force or Snake and his lackeys. Kaito would admit to being a bit cocky about it, but his advance preparations and cautiousness always paid off in the end. All would go well, he was sure.

Then, the snipers arrived.

It was immediately clear that they, whoever they were, were not Snake. Snake was sneaky, cunning and held the aura of a particularly aggressive Beta. But he was also easy to goad, quick to distract, effortlessly out-smarted. Kaito knew Snake. Snake was simple to overcome. This was not Snake.

Yup, definitely not Snake, Kaito sucked in a breath as he narrowly dodged a bullet. It skimmed his glider though and he was losing height progressively. Now, fear began to creep up on him. This was _not_ how it was supposed to go. This was not how it usually went, period.

Because for once, they had waited till Kaitou Kid had glided away before shooting him, calculating his landing and lying in wait for him. Playing the perfect role of a predator luring in his prey. Cold, ruthless machinations that did not allow a chance of failure. Whoever they were, they far, far outclassed Snake.

"Shit," Kaito muffled a cry as he plummeted the last few feet to the ground, vision swimming as he tried to run and hide.

It proved futile. Bullet lodged in his arm, KID had been unable to make a successful escape, and had been immediately captured and sedated. The excruciating pain from the bullet wound only helped further in making Kaito black out.

* * *

Two hours later, safely ensconced in one the organisation's base, Brandy tore open KID's shirt to remove the bullet out and stitch him up.

"I told you to be more careful," Brandy complained as he dabbed the wound clean, "I don't want to clean up any of your messes, Chianti. And Gin wanted KID alive – something about interrogating him – for showing off to the Boss how useless Snake is,"

Chianti grunted, "It was a perfect shot. He's alive, isn't he? Gin can't complain."

"I wanted to shoot too," Korn muttered softly.

Ignoring the other man, Brandy continued, "Yeah, alive, just barely. If too much blood had been lost… I think this might mean the end for Snake though."

"Nah," Chianti grinned, "I think Rum wants him as bait – some plan the Boss had been deciding about since weeks. Maybe we'll get to shoot some FBI dogs too!"

Brandy ignored her insane cackle as he systematically disrobed KID, putting him into a standard hospital gown, an off-white coloured yukata. He might be a prisoner, but they did want him alive. And hygiene was the first step to ensure it.

"Say, wasn't Snake going on about KID being some old magician called Toichi?"

"Yeah, so?"

"He doesn't look quite old, really. About nineteen or twenty, I'd say."

"I told you Snake messed up, didn't I?" Chianti replied, "No idea who he is, but I'm sure he'll spill the beans after a little… _persuasion_."

Brandy blinked at her sadism before sighing. Well, his job was done already; he had nothing to worry about what happened further.

"I'm going back to the main lab," Brandy told them, "I think, Sherry and I are going to finally make a breakthrough with the wonder drug… So, take him where ever, put him in one of the cells and what not. Just tell Gin that I'll be around to take a blood sample of his, later."

"Blood sample?" Chianti raised an eyebrow, "No, on second thought – don't tell me. I don't want to hear any scientific mumbo jumbo. Yeah, I'll tell Gin."

* * *

Konosuke Jii had only ever felt this apprehension once before – the night Toichi-sama had been killed. There had been a feeling of foreboding that just refused to go away and a similar emotion gripped him now. It had been two hours since the heist ended and Kaito-bocchama had not yet returned. There had been no phone call either, or a message that he was home, safe and sound.

Jii did not dare think of what could have happened, even though he knew that Kaito-bocchama's disappearance must have had to do with _Them –_ the Black Organisation.

Jii did not want to assume, but that was the only logical conclusion. Catching hold of KID was not easy, and Snake was not what you'd call competent. He had only managed to kill Toichi because it had been unexpected that he would target him outside of a heist.

Which meant that today's opponents were different. The organisation was pulling out the big guns, so to speak. And Jii couldn't handle this alone. With shaking hands, he pulled out his phone and dialled a number, waiting for the line to connect.

"Chikage-sama, it's about Kaito-bocchama…"

* * *

Kaito awoke to pain. And hunger. But mostly pain.

It radiated from his arm and spread out, stopping his attempts at sitting upright. Taking a glance around, he could make out a low ceiling and a door. He was laid down on a bed, and there was a low bedside table and a wooden chair as furniture. Apart from that, it seemed to be a bare and closed room.

Then the panic set in.

 _'_ _Where am I? Kami-sama! Was I caught?'_

A look at himself, and the stitches adorning his arm, set the truth apart. He, the Phantom Thief Kid, the greatest escape artist ever, the Heisei Lupin, had been caught.

 _'_ _Damn,'_ Kaito swallowed down his terror, ' _there's no use if I hyperventilate now. First, I must escape.'_

That thought was soon discarded when he realised that he'd been given no anaesthetic (Of course not, not like they're going to make the pain _manageable_ for me, Kaito realised dryly) and his arm ached agonisingly.

Then, he quickly sniffed himself, checking to make sure the scent blockers were still working. They were.

Scent blockers were essentially a type of perfume, sold in bottles and cans with a spraying facility. They could be sprayed or dabbed, either on a person's body itself, to cover up their scent glands and let it soak into it, thus giving out an aromatic smell (which varied for different types of products), or it could be sprayed inside a room like an air-fresher.

The main method was to let the nose smell a more potent aroma than what a person's scent glands gave out. Often times, the person applying a scent blocker couldn't smell another's scent too, since their nose became too numb by continuously inhaling the scent blocker sprayed on themselves.

Depending on the price of a blocker and the company that produced them, their time effectiveness varied. It also depended on a person's second gender, of course.

Betas, the most common and majority of the population, gave out a very neutral smell. It was usually unobtrusive and rarely needed to be blocked. Scent blockers also lasted for maximum duration on them, stretching for a period of 48 to 72 hours, without the need to reapply.

Alphas, a minority compared to Betas and almost similar in number to Omegas, had a much more potent scent. They smelt like particularly strong and overused perfume – and not always pleasant to everyone – providing most people with a raging headache if inhaled for too long; people's olfactory nerves could only sense so much before tiring out, after all. It was mandatory for all Alpha's to apply scent blockers if they worked in a large company or interacted heavily with people.

Omegas, their population as small in number as the Alphas, had a less potent smell. They also smelt more pleasant, earthy and natural; not quite headache inducing and very welcoming. But it was for this very purpose that it was mandatory for working Omegas to block their scent. After all, employers did not want their employees ogling their co-workers instead of _working_. Also, during a heat (that typically occurs four to five times in a year in accordance with the changing seasons) their scent became over-bearing. So, yes, mandatory.

For both minor second genders, scent blockers typically lasted for a minimum of 12 hours to a maximum of 36 hours. Once again, this also depended on the manufacturing company that created the product.

Kaitou Kid, on the other hand, used scent blockers more to fool the public than due to the laws concerning them. After all, Kuroba Toichi had been a Beta. So, Kaitou Kid, the second, couldn't possibly smell like anything but a Beta, could he?

Kaito had just relaxed, hoping to find a way to escape his captors once he regained full use of his limbs, and a bit of energy, when the door rattled. There was a distinct sound of a padlock being opened and a bolt sliding out of its slot. Then, with an ominous creaking sound, door pushed inwards, letting entrance to a man and woman. As soon as they walked in, they shut the door and the woman leaned against it to prevent Kaito from entertaining any notions about escaping.

Not that Kaito had any intention to. One look at the woman and he knew he stood no chance, especially in his weakened state – the woman was a martial artist. Nope, Kaito agreed with his thoughts, no going anywhere while she's here.

 _'_ _I think I could take the man out,_ ' Kaito wondered as the man walked towards him, placing what looked like a first aid kit on the bedside table, _'But let's just go along with what they're doing now. Trying to escape now would only end in failure and would lead to a heavier security. If the security for Kaitou Kid isn't already heavy, that is.'_

The first aid kit turned out to be a mini-laboratory and Kaito wondered in horror what they were planning to do to him. His fears were momentarily placed to rest as he was only given a check-up.

The man began shining a small penlight into his eyes then, one hand running through his hair as if to check for bumps.

 _'_ _He's checking if I have a concussion,_ ' Kaito realised, _'Why? I'm just a prisoner…'_

"You've been unconscious for eight hours. What do you remember last?" the man asked as he took his pulse, "Any blank areas? Dizziness? Nausea?"

The woman snorted, "I don't know why you're bothering, Brandy, that has nothing to do with his physical health,"

"On the contrary, Curaçao," the man, Brandy, replied, "His mental faculties must not be harmed. We may need to retrieve information from him at some point in time."

Kaito narrowed his eyes _, 'They're talking so freely, giving out names, code names – as if they don't expect me to escape here at all,'_ Anger boiled within him, ' _And what makes you think I won't lie about my mental state? Now that you've revealed the reason for –'_

Oh. _Oh_ …he couldn't lie. Not when Brandy was looking into his eyes and checking his pulse. The doctor (?) would immediately pick out his lies by his body's reaction. And Kaito might have an excellent poker face, but when shot and injured, not even he could lie effectively enough by controlling his pulse rate, breathing pattern or pupil dilation.

 _'_ _Let's just be compliant for now_ ,' Kaito took a breath, ' _Make them lower their guard,'_

"My memory's fine," Kaito answered Brandy's question with a blank face, giving out the impression that he was not pleased to be here but knew that he had no choice.

Brandy nodded at that and retreated, just as Kaito wanted.

Then, Brandy pulled out a syringe and capped it with a needle. Kaito's eyes widened.

 _'_ _No! They're going to take a blood sample?'_

His instinctive reaction, flinching away, was quelled forcefully. He sat still as Brandy retrieved an amount of blood from him, finally packing away his kit and standing up to leave. They locked the door behind them and Kaito flopped down onto the bed, tired.

"Having my DNA is going to be problematic," Kaito murmured to himself, "Even if they don't recognise who I am after seeing my face, it will not take long for them to do so after I escape and then cross check it. They already have people high up in the police," Kaito sighed, "Come to think of it; they must have taken my finger prints too."

Things seemed to only get more troublesome now. But the organisation having his DNA was slightly less worrying. The main source of worry was his scent blocker fading off.

Kaito had been unconscious for eight hours. If it had taken a couple of hours for them to come to this place, it would mean nearly twelve hours had passed since he'd applied the blocker. So, he had possibly another twenty four hours to escape – escape before the Black Organisation found out…

That, Kaitou Kid the second, Kuroba Kaito, was an Omega.

* * *

AN:- So, how many have figured out who RUM in this story is? Leave us a review, because Mystic surely wants to know! So far, no one seems to have guessed, but I hope to see someone hit the bulls-eye soon!

Hope you all enjoyed it so far! We hope to keep updates regular, but Mystic's health will be my priority and spell-check and revision may thus take a while.

Thank you all for your support and well wishes!

-Critic


End file.
